the ritual

this is a continuation of yesterday's entry. actually, it was supposed to be in the middle, pero i forgot to upload the photo... so here it is instead.

It was a little strange seeing him in a youth congress. Datu must be around 75 years old or maybe older. Since the older IPs were not able to use calendars then nor were able to register their birth, they can only hazard their age as well. You have to ask them if they were remember the war with the Japanese.

Anyway, Datu was present at the IP youth congress (Kalindogan 2006) to perform a ritual of the blessing of the buildings and the land of the Pamulaan IP College.

Witnessing Datu perform the ritual was quite an experience. The four limbs of a native pig were tied together, a sacrifice to be given to the spirits. While the participants and organizers were waiting for the ritual to start, the squeals of the pig were grating in my ears, like a battered child wailing. (For a brief moment, I lost pity, remembering how evil the pigs were in George Orwell’s Animal Farm. But it was just fleeting).

And then the ritual began.

Chewing his betel nut, he started to chant, seemingly directed to the pig. Many of the witnesses could not understand what he was saying, but were all curious as to what would happen. After many minutes, it was as if Datu was entering a trance. His chants were louder, he began to sway rhythmically. In between breaths, he would spit at the pig with betel nut-stained saliva.

While the Datu spoke louder, the squeals of the pig became softer. As if it has begun to accept its ill fate.

After a while some of the people left to witness another ritual, but a good number stayed behind, fearful of disrespecting something sacred. Those of us who remained went nearer to the Datu and the pig. He hardly noticed the people. It was as if he has charmed the pig, the squeals are fewer and farther.

Finally, one of his companions stuck a long blade in between the ribs and most likely into the heart of the pig. I could hear the blood in its body gurgle as it became harder for the pig to breath, and eventually it just surrendered its life quietly.

The Bukidnon, Higaonon and Talaandig tribes who stayed behind touched the wound where the knife went in with their feet and hands. When I asked what it was for, it was “panimalas.” It was to drive away bad luck from a person. I was torn between taking part of it and pity for the pig. The pig was taken away before I could decide, but apparently we can still do the same with just the remaining blood on the ground. I touched the clotted blood on the bamboo bed where the egg was sacrificed.

It felt so mystical, and in a way, sacred even to a Christian like me.

Afterwards, the Datu buried an egg where the blood of the pig was spilt. That was for the spirits he failed to call during the ritual, to appease them, in case they get jealous. I also discovered, that before the ritual, a broken glass was buried in the same place as the egg. A symbol of burying bad luck.

Nila, our interpreter, explained that the ritual took longer than usual because Datu was in a land unknown to him. The Kalindogan was his first time in Davao. It took a while before he was able to commune with the spirits.

She also explained how it was also difficult for Datu to leave his sitio. He has to perform a ritual every time he had to leave Mahayag. The last time that he failed to do so, when he want to an Indigenous Peoples Apostolate meeting of the Malaybalay Diocese, it was as if he lost his mind. He kept running around, and people had to chase him to make him stay put. Fortunately, he was able to prepare for the Kalindogan and was his usual wise self.

(photo c/o Redg)